but not enough
to start writing
the mammalion of salvation
for this sacred planet

but you don't love me
I could be your tape recorder
your
meaning-less comic
a phat bottle of
how to court an amorous
-I almost said
A. Normous-

scrollings
of
haha!

everyone again -->
I Love
prizes without meaning
this S(k)a runk feeling
plastering clouds on a cool blue ceiling
Hey!
Now
IS the
Art !
smoky-glass wishes
boyish capers of nimbly
Literally
I Love
Youth
the last spending of dollahs
in a script
you could be mounting a horse;
you the rude wanton

star

and
we end up
leaving your
love-bruised body
dangling over the HiWay
for the jagged majestics of ?
-fuck-
I never cared to watch mick jagger but that style works on you
or you work it
so just
know that I am curtail'd of cough syrup
cigarettes
alcohol
pot
all drugs
& mind blowing sex
but
I'll fuck in the weirdly lit cemetary with you
heaping victorious hooks of
CAUTION! DANGER AHEAD
don't fall
this is the end of the suction cup
and
my mind is growing blunt
so

Jul 11, 2013

connected
with nothing
but
typefont
we enter a new ancient dot-a-long
lines
mapped out
by push-button fingers
poking
through dark holes:
a crazy diamond [wish you were here] hindsight
one third
of our thoughts
prodigiously [troublesome]
the sum of too many sinkings
in an ocean of arsenic solitude -
sea greed for generations beyond

our words:
tendrils
submerged
in waves of light

don't you see

I still
drown
to
find
a poem
about
a slim
flower
from
Atlantis

all metal
-headed
and
fishtail braids
sprung from the brine
[hypothetical]
with a smile
so calm
that it almost hurts

May 31, 2013

i really shouldn't write anything, being in the mood, i am. bad. bad. bad mood. all i did today was eat. bad things. like: hot dogs, salt n vinegar chips, cookies, candy.
my neck and shoulders hurt hurt hurt and i am afraid to take anymore arthritis pills.
see what i mean? went to my bad place in a matter of seconds.
so i will stick to the positive. i finally set up my 5 gallon death tank. i broke my own rule - which is - always buy the biggest tank you can possibly manage. it would be cruel to actually put a fish in this aquarium.

May 12, 2013

we stayed up late at someone else's garden party
a quarter to two and I'm thinking
wildly
impressed with the enormity of how small-time is
drinking a 'slow low'
next to the charcoal grill and
sleepy
white blossoms
I pull a nickle and take a drag
of what I like to call
grounded oyster -
'I'll tell you what'
you were the lumpy to my bumpy
under that dern
canoe

Apr 14, 2013

Nina keeps her eyes on the road
the bangles on her arms;
small silver songs
as innocuous as
the sun in the perfect blue sky
next to her -
he lay like a rock in his blanket
a corpse
the alive
scooped from his whole being
eyes black as a funeral
she hated when he got this way
hated it all
for him
and for herself

are you thirsty

no

your soul may melt into your body's fever

the soul is a river
it flows forever
winds around the stars
like a ribbon

god
you are so
dialed-in

sorry

she tries to smile but it feels shaky
and fake -
she felt like a moon's crater
spread with embalming fluid

slow down
you're speeding

suddenly she hates the metal box
that is his heart
she hates being afraid
she hates feeling alone

Mar 20, 2013

On piggy-back. Until I get my equipment moved by my regular IP, because I still have a year left on the contract. ugh. My spotify won't play though.. "Because your account is being used somewhere else." heh.
yeah. so I am all moved in. At the expensive of my left knee getting all jacked up.
So just in case I can't get in here tomorrow.. (My anniversary ..so to speak .. 2 yrs of sobriety and no sex.) none. nada. Two years. I still have my last pack of cigs. The pack I brought with me on the train. yeah I know it's, road to nowhere, but you can replace road with train.

I tweaked the Scrabble poem from 03.02.13

We , and where is our Scrabble game?

A blank night
another
breath
Are you
say I
ruined with perfectly
you
kitty in the static snow
little bunny ears
connecting fronds

you review my stats
and
all the lonely days & good-byes
your hair drowning your shoulders
as you drift
against this hole in my eyes
you
the weather in
this room
cool yet to come
I am John Keats in a tie-dye t-shirt
in your lap of milky
tying
day to
day
talk about
the knotted and twisted
winter:
on actual paper , the clouds

Mar 8, 2013

I am going to attempt, once again, to achieve and maintain, a modern,
minimalistic look / feel.

Here is the photo that will keep me on track..

to have a personal photo, blown up, and mounted on anything from acrylic to raw aluminum is expensive.
I don't have a couch or a coffee table.. I have.. one blow-up mattress, a velvet chair and a storage cube. oh, and one TV tray. I am leaving the area rug here. Well.. just thinking out-loud.

I also want a 'sideboard' .. I could shoot myself - I found a vintage, stereo console / cabinet at the Goodwill, a couple of weeks ago for $30 and didn't buy it. omg, how stupid! It looked like this

Jan 26, 2013

Tall and
slim she once was The Search that purred
now herding
the last of the whimpering
beasts through abandoned villages of thatch
feral chicks run amok
She is following
The Man carrying The Book of Distant Galaxies
he is traveling with his baby owl
to the little
clay
Throne of Faith
elsewhere The Gatherers are already boarding the train
that casket of mildew
that moving nest of secret incubatina
O yeah
this is real hunger and not a game
the graceless alligator of life
plods along and
Death stops to scribble
on many a sooty shelter door
reminding her to keep the herd moving
to keep the rifle loaded

Jan 6, 2013

Daphne Odora
came into this world
surrounded by the first snow iris
blooming in the ruins of the once
great
rotunda
where the rousting & roasting of the false Sky Prophet
took place. That scal(l)awag.
On the morning of her birth ..
the turn
of the whales had special meaning—
a strange liturgy of myth and wind,
breaking the wave patterns on the twelve holy
shoals—
paper-white & sparkling *
in the near distance—
crimped bees buzzed through the golden light
as we collected the first mutter nectar
just for you
until the bent things
trussed by their own chrysalis
exploded all along the bulwarks like
the blazing stars
suspended over your cradle
* * * * * * * * * * * *
broken clouds, through the east
hang low—
lightning crawls : a light show
blooming out—
we sing glad hymns
our voices a scintillatingly mix of
all the world's emptiness uprooted
& the painted angels on the walls—
just another wreckage of colors
falling
plunging wings of white—
a sequence of holes
in the elegant arches
of this small steeple